


Domesticated Dead

by LeatherandStripes



Category: Death Note
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Two Shot, Violence, Zombies, alternate universe - zombieland
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 01:53:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeatherandStripes/pseuds/LeatherandStripes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Columbus Code was more a set of guidelines than a bible, a way to survive Zombieland. But life's never predictable, and rules are made to be broken. A Zombieland AU in two parts, starring Matt and Mello.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domesticated Dead

**xxx**

The engine roared beneath him as he sped down the highway, maneuvering carefully between debris, still-smoking cars, and the occasional body. Glancing down at his watch, he allowed a small smile. 5:30 pm. Months ago, he wouldn't have been able to get five miles at this hour due to traffic. That was a little bit of silver lining he liked to focus on once the zombie apocalypse broke out: complete and utter lack of traffic. Well, at least once nearly three quarters of the population got wiped out.

He sighed to himself, breath sounding louder under the helmet, before he saw the super market sign peaking out over the ridge ahead. Excellent. He was running low on chocolate.

The blond pulled into the parking lot minutes later, eyes darting around the nearly empty lot before he parked the bike and removed his helmet. His fingers brushed over the holsters at his thighs as he strode to the front entrance, the automatic door sliding open and closed with jerky movements, continuously slamming into the overturned cart between the two doors. Carefully stepping over the cart, the blond gave a once over to the abandoned queues, eyes absently following several streaks of old blood toward what was once the frozen food section.

"Let's hope I'm the only one who's hungry."

**xxx**

It isn't like the Columbus Code strictly stated, 'don't go outside'. No, that was more Matt's number one rule. That, and always restock the toilet paper. Just because a zombie apocalypse ravished the world didn't mean poor hygiene was acceptable. For the most part, the world as the Brit knew it was pretty similar. The internet still existed, be it with less people but with the same amount of porn that pre-dated the virus. Power was still going strong, as was running water. Every day the redhead woke up with running water was a blessed gift from God. He often imagined some poor blokes holed up at a power company, keeping the lights on even after all hope was lost.

But no, today he was strictly breaking his other number one rule: don't stray too far from base. Was it his fault that the super market near his place had caught fire sometime between his last raid and now? No, no way. You don't shit where you eat, man, and he would never destroy where he shopped. Forced to stray further from safety than normally permitted, Matt found himself far away by the time a suitable shopping mart showed itself.

The gamer entered through the back door, propping it open. Columbus Code, Rule 15: Know your way out. Matt stumbled across the code years ago. Some guy calling himself Columbus had posted rules for surviving what he called the world: Zombieland. Matt had memorized every single one, and they were helpful. Even though some were common sense, some were just priceless for surviving. He learned to make sure to Stay Limber (Rule 18) and, of course, Cardio (Rule 1). He worked out in his house every day to stay healthy and fit. Only the strongest survived Zombieland, and he wanted to survive.

Not being much of a killer, Matt stuck to himself. Unlike Columbus, who found himself matched up with his own little rag-tag group, Matt just couldn't do it. People thought much differently than he did, had their own agendas. All the redhead wanted was to surf the internet, play video games, and not get eaten by slobbering viral buckets. Yes, the gamer lived a simple life, and people tended to complicate that.

The lanky youth grabbed the random items he needed and placed them in his backpack as he wandered through the store. He took things slow, one aisle after another, gun held in his shaky hands, aware of his surroundings. No zombie would have him for a meal today. Zeds were loud and stupid, not to mention slow. Rigamortis was his best friend, rigidness and over exposure his companions. Zombies were fine one-on-one, but as his green eyes scanned the aisles he began to notice a trend. Blood streaking the tile floor, pieces of human remains. He swallowed thickly, all signs in the area pointed to a herd. Panic struck his frame. Had they passed through? Surly he'd hear them...

That was the moment he felt it, the rumble coming from the back room, the moaning so loud it was almost palpable. One hand gripped his gun as the other reached for the closest weapon he could find. Looking at what he grabbed, he frowned.

"I can't fight with a bloody ham!" His eyes narrowed as the door to the back opened and three zombies shambled out, slow and dumb, but three was bad. Very bad.

The redhead turned and bolted the other way.

A yelping blur rushed past the end of the aisle the blond was standing in, several bars of chocolate clenched in his hand. He paused, gripping a bar between his teeth as he shoved the remainder of the sweets in the small pack hooked over his arm. He swung the pack onto his back, taking careful steps down the aisle before he heard it.

"Shit..." he muttered, gloved hands hovering over the pistols at his sides.

Matt stopped himself mid-run. Had he just seen a living person down that candy aisle? Shit, he knew he had. This is why he didn't travel with people: he had too much guilt in his heart. He knew if he left now without at least attempting to help the poor sad sap, he'd never forgive himself. Sighing loudly, he backtracked.

"Oi, blondie!" he whispered at the end of the aisle, waving his ham at him. "Follow me before the rest of the herd smells us! Quick!"

The blond stared at the panting redhead, watching the other man grip at the...ham?

"Is that a ham? I think they'll smell the ham, too!" He took several quick strides forward, gesturing for the other to follow him. "The front's clear, come on."

"Sodding.. idiot, fuck!" Matt let out a quiet yelp. The blond guy was right, ham? Had he really grabbed the ham and kept it? The redhead chucked the meat, realizing that it hit a sneaky zombie whom had lurked around the corner. With a squeak, the redhead tripped backwards and ran away from it, following the other boy.

"WAIT!" He remembered, his hand jutting out to grab the blond before he ran into another zombie surprising them near one of the queues. He tugged hard and jerked the stranger away from the undead and the front door. "No, no, this way! I have a way out back here, you never take the front. They're bleedin' everywhere once the first shows. They always herd the front door." Making his way through the aisles, Matt frowned. They were blocking the back too, just two of them. They could take two, right? If he wasn't such a bad shot…

Matt took aim and shot the zombie in the leg. "Frick! I was aiming for the head..."

A moment later, the zombie's head shot backwards, congealed blood erupting from the bullet wound. The blond gripped the other's wrist, tugging him back, voice low and urgent, "Then where do we go? Which way out?"

Green eyes widened comically, "You just…damn. I-it's over here." Matt allowed the blond to keep a hold on him as they reached the doorway. It was amazing, the guy really had perfect aim, and Matt felt pretty inadequate in comparison. His shooting…was not really what kept him alive. As they reached the doorway, Matt grinned: this was why he was still alive. Flinging the door open, he jumped the two foot gap into the back of a moving van. After the blond had crossed the gap, he lowered the van's back door, chaining and locking the sheet of metal. He led the blond to the front of the storage compartment, crouching down and pulling on a small concealed handle. A door slid open, revealing the front seat of the van. Matt cracked a smile at the other, relishing the look of awe spreading over his face, before climbing through and slipping into the driver's seat.

After crawling through the opening, the blond settled down into the seat, casting a glance over at the redhead chewing on his bottom lip as he threw the truck into gear and pulled away from the building. A smirk tugged at his lips as he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "A ham and a U-Haul, huh?"

"I was a bit preoccupied with the budding herd in front of me, mate. I didn't exactly pick the ham on purpose." The redhead allowed a small laugh. The guy next to him was a bit cheeky for his liking, but he was glad he'd stayed behind. If he hadn't…the blond might not have made it out alive and it would have been his fault. "And don't tell me you don't think my U-Haul trick was clever. It was bleedin' brilliant, if you ask me." Matt shrugged as he avoided hitting a few zombies. When they turned the corner he had to stop the truck. The front of the supermarket was swarmed... it was worse than he thought it was going to be. His mouth hung open as he leaned his elbows against the wheel.

"I don't think you'll be getting back to your bike anytime soon, mate. I'm sorry. You could circle back later and get it if one of those meatheads doesn't knock it over?"

"Yeah...yeah, I can uh...wait it out. Thanks, by the way," the blond rested his elbow on the window sill and closed his eyes against the swarm of undead seeping through the entrance of the supermarket. He hoped they pushed the cart out of the way and that damn busted door chopped a few into pieces. His eyes opened quickly, realizing he'd said that last bit aloud.

"Me too, that'd be pretty sweet." Matt responded, not knowing that the blond hadn't actually been talking to him. He sighed and leaned back against the seat, reaching into his bag and grabbing one of the many reasons he had risked his life. Opening the box of cigarettes he smiled. "Sweeeeeeet, sweet addicting nicotine, where've you been for the last month?" Lighting the stick between his lips, he took a large drag and rolled the window down a bit. Cool air pushed his bangs out of his eyes, the sweet, dank smell of death flooding his senses. He was used to it, but the smell mixed with smoke was a bit much. Putting the truck back into drive he headed away from the market.

"So, got some place for me to drop you off? You had a bike, so I'm assumin' you must be nearby. No one travels far without a car, now-a-days."

"Nope, no place anymore," he sighed, feeling the cool wind whipping at his hair. He reached into his bag and pulled out a bar of chocolate, unwrapping it carefully and breaking off a small piece before refolding the wrapper and placing it gingerly in his bag. "Been a little here, little there, but no place for more than a night or two."

It sounded sad, the life of a drifter. In Zombieland you were either one of two: a drifter or a hoarder. Matt's life style before the zombies was already much similar to that of a hoarder, so he found the role easy and livable. Moving the stick around between his lips, he thought about the words floating in his mind. After half the cigarette had been smoked and they had cleared into a safety zone again, Matt spoke.

"My place ain't much, but if you need a place to crash it's safe. I even have wi-fi if you need to check up on anyone you know." He offered a smile before focusing on the road again, "Just don't rob me blind or kill me and we'll be good."

The blond stared at the other man before a small smile spread across his lips. "As long as you don't try to rape me, we're good. Thanks. I'll be out in the morning, don't worry. And I don't need to use any of your resources or anything. No one to check up on, got my own food...unless you've got a shower."

"Rape you?" Matt gave him an incredulous look, "That's got to be the first time someone's ever said something like that to me. Do I look threatening? You could break me, mate." Matt shook his head and actually laughed, "I guess I get it, Zombieland's dangerous, not just 'cause of the zombies, yanno? Humans are dangerous." Finishing his cigarette he flicked the butt out the window. "No worries, blondie, I'm just not that interested in sex. Now if you happen to have a new game hidden away on your person, I might need to steal that." He smiled again, turned the bend to get on the highway. "'Course I have a shower, you're welcome to use it. I don't get a water bill anymore."

"Humans tend to be horrible, and this type of thing amps the whole thing up," he closed his eyes again, absently drawing little patterns over his thigh. "But really, are you a eunuch?" the blond chuckled under his breath.

"Last time I checked I wasn't." Matt laughed harder, avoiding a few cars in the middle of the road.

"Kidding, kidding. Plus, even if you were, that's excellent because you have a shower and are officially my new best friend for the next 17 hours."

"Yeah.. I don't really associate with people in the flesh. I didn't before, and I really don't now. I do hang out with people online though, a lot of us hoarders have forums to communicate with each other. It's all the socializing I've needed in the last few years." His eyes glanced off the road for a moment to offer the blond a gentle smile, "So you're in luck. For the next 17 hours you're mine as well. Just be careful, I might make you play Tekken with me."

"I remember Tekken," a lazy smile crossed the blond's lips. "I might have to take you up on that." He opened his eyes then, feeling as close to comfortable as he had in months. Maybe years. He really had no intention of keeping count.

Pulling up to his house, Matt kept an eye out around the area as he parked the U-Haul. The back was backed against the door, blocking any entrance or exit except through said U-Haul. Locking the cabin doors, he climbed into the back and unlocked the door, pulling it up and open. Taking a new set of keys from his backpack, the redhead slid a key into the door handle, carefully unlocking his house. After sliding the deadbolt back, he moved to the side, allowing the blond to go in first.

The inside of the house wasn't much on the first floor. The windows were bared and blocked off by strong wood, blackout curtains adding an extra layer of protection. The rest of the groundfloor was unlived in; the impressive area was the second floor. Completely cut off from the top floor, the staircase had been busted out and burned down. The only way up was one of those old people stair lifts, currently sitting at the top floor. Matt pulled out an electronic button to call it down, as he waited, he grinned.

"Smart, right?"

"Very," the other smirked, taking note of his surroundings.

Almost glowing with pride, the redhead stood on the seat and let the blond stand on the platform. As he reached the top he jumped off and headed over to the main living area. "Alright then, the showers that way and there's also a room down there that I don't use, you can use it if you want. Got a pretty soft bed in there, might find some clothes too." He offered a smile and walked to his makeshift kitchen where he began to unload his haul from the supermarket. His upstairs was full of food, water, and any other emergency item a hoarder would need. His computers and TV with game systems were all set up, a stack of games lining the wall.

"Again, thanks. I'm going to go monopolize your shower to its fullest extent, if you'll excuse me." Taking his pack and jacket off, the blond placed them neatly by the hallway and headed toward the bathroom, the door clicking softly behind him.

Matt made quick work with whipping something up for dinner. He was so used to making enough for only one that it took him a moment to realize he made too little. He knew the other said not to share, that he had his own, but he had a guest! A guest for the first time in…ever! He was British, and Brits did not have people over and let them starve. Making sure he made enough for two this time, he grinned and took his seat by the television.

Halfway through an episode of Supernatural he realized the water in the bathroom had stopped. Taking another drink of his soda, he grabbed the blond's food from the microwave, putting in on the table with an extra soda.

The other boy appeared in the room, a towel working over his hair. "Sweet Jesus, that was amazing," he laughed softly to himself, draping the towel over his shoulders and dropping his mini arsenal and clothes on top of his pack and jacket. He took a seat at the end of the couch, fingers smoothing over the baggy pajama bottoms he'd found in the spare room.

"If you liked it so much, you're welcome to take another one in the morning." Matt laughed and nodded towards the food on the table. "I'm not the best cook in the world. Wait…well, hell, I might be now." He snorted loudly before leaning his elbow on the corner of the couch. "So hey, what should I call you? I can't keep saying 'blondie'. Sounds weird."

"My name's really not important, and you really didn't have to." the blond's eyes raked over the food in front of him with something akin to lust.

The redhead frowned only slightly before shrugging, "Whatever floats your boat, mate. You can call me Mail. My mates online call me Matt…long story, but that's my real name. Either one you like, feel free. I'll answer to either." Taking another large bite of his food, he pressed play on the TV, "And 'course I did. Can't let my guest starve, wouldn't be very nice of me. I don't get to play host often."

"Well...thanks again, Mail," he picked up the bowl, fingers flexing against the warm ceramic. "And I guess you can call me Mello."

"That's a weird name." The redhead lifted an eyebrow, "Gamer tag?"

"It's not my actual name, I said that wasn't important," Mello muttered around his fork, closing his eyes at the taste of actual food.

Matt took that answer in stride as he lit a cigarette. "Sorry, sorry. I haven't spent much time with people since Zombieland happened. All the people I know are online…so I forget sometimes." Offering a smile he held his soda up, "Cheers. To being alive. Nice to make your acquaintance, Mello."

"The pleasure is all mine," the blond raised his soda, tapping it against Mail's with a dull, metallic clunk.

The night came and went, full of idle chatter, food, and the Winchesters. All around, Mello was a fun guy to spend time with. He didn't talk much, but when he did Matt found that he wanted to hear what he had to say. Waking up the next morning, he was actually sad to see the sun. He knew Mello was a drifter, and even if he asked him to stay longer, he probably wouldn't.

Sitting up, he walked toward the window. It was his morning ritual to look out of the blackout curtains and make sure nothing near by was on fire. However, his mouth dropped when what he saw was a herd passing through. It happened once in a while, but they never noticed him, the curtains and being on the second floor keeping him invisible. But it meant he wouldn't be able to leave for a while, and as always, the looming threat of stragglers…and the more looming threat that today could be the day a herd noticed him inside and came for him.

Putting the curtain back, he walked in to the living room. How was he going to break the news to the blond?

Mello leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "So, you saw them too, huh?"

The redhead nodded solemnly, "Yeah. You know, I think it'd be safer if you stayed. I get if you want to risk it, but my professional opinion is don't be a hero, mate. I'm not that bad, and I don't mind." It almost sounded like a plea, he felt his stomach drop at the thought of the lone blond making his way through the herd. Even if he did have awesome aim…it just…wasn't smart. He shuffled a bit before heading toward the kitchen to make some coffee.

The blond's voice rang softly past his ear, silent feet padding across the floor, "I might be a little off, but I'm not completely suicidal, Mail."

Relief flooded his body, a smile creeping on to his features. "Cool. Hey, did you want cream in your coffee?" He cheered up quicker then he knew he should have. After all, there was a herd on his door step. He poured the two coffees and went to the mini fridge for the cream.

"Just a little bit. No sugar," Mello held back the laugh threatening to escape his throat. "You sorta missed people, didn't you?" He sat on the couch, backtracking slightly, "I mean, there's nothing wrong with that. It's not like people are fantastic, but it gets lonely sometimes, which is fine, and talking to a bunch of decaying bastards who are all about eating you in the literal sense...well." Shit, he was rambling, wasn't he? Is this what he'd morphed into? Some effeminate chatterbox with a sniper's accuracy?

"What I'm trying to say is I don't judge."

"I guess you've got me pegged." Matt rubbed the back of his neck before adding cream and sugar to the coffees. "I didn't…think I'd missed people. But I guess it's normal? It's just nice." He didn't want to sound weird; the last thing he needed to do was weird out his guest. He brought the coffee over with a few cookies and set it on the table in front of him. "I've always been alone, yanno? Anti-social and whatnot, don't get along with most people. Suppose it just threw me for a loop that I don't mind you, is all."

"I'm fucking fantastic, why wouldn't you like me," Mello mused before taking a sip of his coffee.

Matt laughed loudly before sinking in to the couch. "A bit arrogant aren't we, blondie?" He laughed a bit more before he was silenced by a gunshot coming from outside. His knuckles turned white against the couch before he jumped up to turn all the lights off in a rush. His back hit the wall as he inched toward the curtain to look out.

"Fucking idiots…that shot'll call even more to this area…who...?"

"Either someone who's got an endless supply of bullets and balls of steel, or some dumbass with a possible death wish," Mello rose from the couch and molded himself against a wall next to a window, peering out the tiny gap between the curtains.

Matt clicked his tongue. He saw the RV right before the hoard did. It had to be some drifters. They hadn't realized that the street they were on only had a few walkers on it, that the herd was one street over. Now the RV was almost over turned, two people standing on the roof reaching for an overhang to an apartment building. One of the guys was being stupid, shooting into the herd.

"If they were smart they should have drove around the stranglers…" He watched, his fingers griping the window sill. His eyes wide with shock, face pale with hopelessness. There was nothing he could do from here. Anything he did would endanger himself. It wasn't his fault they were stupid…but…

"I feel so helpless.." He muttered, watching the people climbing up the overhang.

"Think they'll make it?"

"No." Matt had to be honest, a drifter without supplies wouldn't make it holding up against a herd. "If all of their stuff was in that RV, they'll have two days tops without water. With water, I'd say about two weeks…but then starvation kicks in. If they brought food in packs, I'd say at least a month before they either try to run for it or the herd breaks their will. A drifter isn't any good stuck inside without preparations." Matt frowned and turned toward the blond, "I…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that all. I'm just…I think too logically, I didn't realize I was rattling on."

"No, it's fine. It's true though, if you're going to travel, you need to have a backup plan," he shot a sly smile at Mail. "Here's to you, backup plan. But really, don't. Unlike them, I've got my shit together, and it's no small wonder how I've made it this long."

"I'm ever so flattered to be your backup plan." He allowed a dark smile to shift his features. He tried to cheer up a bit, he really did. But those were humans dying over there, and nothing he wanted to do could help. Sighing, he headed back to the couch and sat down, reclining his head back to look at the blond. "It's really impressive how you've managed to live this long out there. I couldn't do it…it isn't how I survive."

"Point, shoot, run. Eat and sleep when you can't run any longer," Mello shrugged, plopping back on the couch and scratching at his knee. "It's an endless cycle, just like a 9 to 5 job, except poor work results in dismemberment instead of a pink slip."

"Hard life. Ever think about switching careers? Being a hoarder ain't so bad, I still get out but…yanno, not as much."

"I've thought about it, but I honestly don't think I could find myself 'settling down' in a world that's completely fucked up. Not really the domesticated type. I had a hard enough time when everyone wasn't trying to eat everyone else, so..."

Matt felt a little stab of sadness in his chest, though he smiled through it and jumped up. "Well, no worries. As soon as the herd moves on I'm sure I can find you a working car in the area." He snatched himself a soda from the fridge and a book from his shelf and sat back down.

Mello watched the other carefully, blue eyes unblinking, "Hey, I'm sorry if I said anything to offend. Didn't mean to...if I did..."

"Naw, not offended, mate." He smiled again and snuggled down in to the couch, opening his book. "We're just different people. S'okay. Feel free to watch anything on the DVD rack, just keep the TV down."

**xxx**

Mello had unpacked and repacked and unpacked and repacked his gear at least 27 times during the past week. Once for every time those morons across the street fired off a shot. He had to admit that he enjoyed Mail's company, liked the fact that he had an actual bed to sleep in that wasn't in constant and immediate danger, and a shower. Hell, he'd been taking advantage of that shower more than anything. But he could feel the beginnings restlessness. And he didn't want to; he liked knowing that he had this little piece of sanctuary for a time, but that was a dangerous thought. Nothing was permanent in this world, and he couldn't afford to think like that.

His eyes watched the steady rise and fall of Mail's chest as the redhead sprawled out on the couch. He'd really starting to owe the lean boy more than he cared to admit, and knowing that he wouldn't be able to repay him made the little creases at the corners of Mello's eyes appear.

Matt rolled over in his sleep, his back against the cushions. Slowly, he woke up, stretching. His green eyes met blue before he sat up, a slight dust of red across his cheeks. What a thing to wake up to. It was a nice sight, but he knew Mello wasn't always going to be there when he woke up. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself," Mello smirked, breaking off a corner of one of his chocolate bars. "Had a nice nap?"

"Yeah, had a dream I was back in Cardiff with my sister." He smiled as he stretched a little more and stood up, "Silly girl, she was prattling on about her fiancé again..." Matt stopped abruptly before changing the subject as he looked through the cabinets, "Anywho, the herd looks like it's finally thinning out."

"Oh," Mello paused, finally placing the sweet back in his bag. "That's...that's good."

"I guess so." He didn't sound too cheerful about the news himself, "Those idiots haven't been firing any guns…so the herd should be gone by next week." Matt's fingers lingered over a pack of beef jerky for a moment before pausing.

"You don't have to go." He knew it was stupid to bring it up, but the least he could do was offer the option. With his back to the blond he mumbled, "You could stay here."

"Yeah...I could. If you'd let me. If I don't freak you out. If you...knew me..."

"I really wouldn't mind if you stayed," he responded quicker than he meant to, his fingers gripping a can of tomatoes hard. "I think I know you enough to extend the offer. I mean, it's okay if you don't want me to know you better. I understand, but I'd like to." He didn't want to freak the blond out, but his social skills were lacking and he felt his words come out a bit too blunt.

Mello stared down at his nails, clean and free of dirt and blood and other shit that always managed to get trapped under them. Maybe a break from his little loaner stint won't be so bad...

"Alright."

Matt had a full speech ready, he'd fight for him to see it his way. How logically he'd live longer if he stayed. He'd beg and plead if he had to...wait, had he just said? He turned, his eyes huge, "Really?"

"Yeah, really," Mello shrugged, a coy grin on his lips, running a hand through his hair. "You had me at 'hot shower'."

Matt laughed and joined Mello on the couch, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Thank God. I thought I'd have to beg or something."

**xxx**


End file.
